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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170585">In the Constellations</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorianvirgil/pseuds/victorianvirgil'>victorianvirgil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>13 Days of Halloween (2020) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1960s AU, Gore, Implied Death, Intrulogical, M/M, Moceit - Freeform, NASA AU, Prinxiety - Freeform, Sanders Sides - Freeform, astronaut!logan sanders, bit of body horror, but no not a top gun au, moon landing au, pilot!patton sanders, pilot!roman sanders, thomas sanders - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:28:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,488</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorianvirgil/pseuds/victorianvirgil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the summer of 1969, NASA's darling Commander, Logan Armstrong, is to head the Apollo 11 mission and successfully land on the moon.  He along with pilots Roman Aldrin and Patton Collins, however, take a wrong turn and find themselves in other-worldly hands.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>13 Days of Halloween (2020) [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>In the Constellations</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>please check the tags and stay safe :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> July 17, 1969 </em>
</p><p>Logan Armstrong had always been better with numbers than with words, but he doubted even the greatest of poets could express the beauty of the Earth from a spaceship. No metaphorical description of green could truly capture the lushness of the color before him now, and any melodic portrayal of the blue seas was nothing more than a mockery of the real thing―so he doubted that it was the tight spaces of the <em> Apollo 11 </em>leaving him nothing short of breathless.</p><p>Seeing the curve of the Earth was a dream come true, and as he stared at the penumbra’s celestial golden glow surrounding his home planet like a halo, he wished he could go back and tell his high school self where he would be, that he had to keep fighting just a little more, for just a little bit longer.</p><p>But he was here now and as he gripped the armrests by his sides, there was nowhere else in the universe he’d rather be.</p><p>“Prince Charming, this is Mission Control,” the muddled voice spoke through a radio, echoing in the small quarters. Sitting to Logan’s right was Lunar Module Pilot Roman Aldrin, who smirked his commander’s way at the title.</p><p>“Mission Control, this is Armstrong, why in the Lord’s name are you calling him that?”</p><p>“Because I asked,” Roman waved him off before pressing the button. “Prince Charming here, disregard the former question. Thank you for the recognition, Mission Control.”</p><p>“Copy that.”</p><p>The third and final member of the crew, Command Module Pilot Patton Collins, laughed in amusement, mischievously grinning his leader’s way, “Just wait until they address you, Commander.”</p><p>“Spare me the James Bond jokes, Collins.”</p><p>Patton countered, “Negative, sir, you look nothing like Sean Connery.”</p><p>“Or John Lennon, which is what Pat recommended at first,” Roman added.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“That’s what I said!” Roman nodded emphatically. “Much more of a Ringo to me.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Nevermind, calculator watch.”</p><p>A buzz, then, “Mission control to Armstrong, did you say you don’t know who Ringo Starr is?”</p><p>“Or Sean Connery, for the matter,” the commander shrugged, neither of his crewmates entirely surprised. The jokes were more for their own benefit, and Logan didn’t particularly mind. Anything to boost morale, especially since they knew good and well that Nixon had written a second speech in the likelihood that they failed.</p><p>A popping sound to Logan’s right yanked him from his spiral, and there was Roman, another bag of food in hand.</p><p>Patton seemed to catch it too because the <em> Apollo </em>pilot could barely speak through his laughter. “I’d like to enter Aldrin in the oatmeal eating contest next time.”</p><p>“Is he pretty good at that?” responded Remy McCandless, their Capsule Communicator back on Earth. The smile was clear in his voice and Logan’s eyes flickered to the window of the command module, his view of Earth gone and replaced by a vast, endless night.</p><p>A flicker of purple swirled then before vanishing entirely, a trick of the mind.</p><p>“-doing his share up here,” Patton said, Logan well-past the conversation and instead studying the window for further evidence.</p><p>Yellow light slithered through the darkness before it too vanished, Logan closing his eyes tightly before opening them again. Gone, an illusion. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility, the universe’s effects on humans outside of Earth still very much unknown.</p><p>Maybe being away from home was causing him to hallucinate. Maybe not.</p><p>“I’m still eating.” But with a mouth full of food, he doubted that anyone else had actually understood Roman. Even Logan was hardly paying attention enough to comprehend it, focused solely on the window before him.</p><p>“Okay. Does that-” Remy started, only for Patton to cut him off.</p><p>“He’s on his . . . he’s on his nineteenth bowl.”</p><p>Those were the last words Logan heard Patton Collins say, and Roman’s amused laughter was silenced as a wave of pure green light consumed their vision and swallowed them whole.</p><p>-</p><p>Television screens crackled around the world, a familiar hissing slipping through living rooms as a cool, blue glow silenced all. Centered on the screen and on almost every station was the President of the United States, and Nixon looked as uncomfortable as ever.</p><p>He cleared his throat before beginning, <em> “Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon and rest in peace.” </em></p><p>Dead, the astronauts were dead.</p><p>
  <em> “These brave men, Logan Armstrong, Roman Aldrin, and Patton Collins know that there is no hope for their recovery. But they also know that there is hope for mankind in their sacrifice.” </em>
</p><p>Silence, the world watched the president take a deep breath. “These three men are laying down their lives in mankind’s most noble goal: the search for truth and understanding.</p><p>
  <em> “They will be mourned by their families and friends; they will be mourned by their nation; they will be mourned by the people of the world-” </em>
</p><p>“This is <em> bullshit,” </em> a man shouted, hazel eyes alight and flaming like a torch. He watched as a face he knew so well, a face near identical to his own, flashed across the screen, and his heart wrenched. “Roman . . . <em> fuck.” </em></p><p>Nixon was still talking, and as Remus collapsed onto the living room couch with his head in his hands, he only caught bits and pieces.<em> “In ancient days, men looked at stars and saw their heroes in the constellations. In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood.” </em></p><p><em> Rotting flesh and spilled blood, gone for good, </em>Remus silently amended, ignoring the hesitant sound of knocking on his front door.</p><p>
  <em> “-For every human being who looks up at the moon in the nights to come will know that there is some corner of another world that is forever mankind.” </em>
</p><p>But it was not the moon that would forever be mankind, no. When the <em> Apollo 11 </em>was pulled into the moon’s gravitational pull and crashed into its rocky surface, none of its three former occupants were aboard. The ship was deserted hours before then and when Commander Logan Armstrong woke, he was staring down at his unconscious, unmoving body.</p><p>He felt the need to scream, but he couldn’t move, paralyzed and incapable of reaching his physical form as a bipedal creature approached, lifting one of his appendages and slowly moving the end of it down his arm in a gentle caress. It turned to look up at Logan then, sensing his consciousness lingering above. As it turned what must’ve been its neck, it began to change: iridescent indigos and violets scales bowed to tanned human skin, feathers to luxurious copper hair. An unscathed part of the head began to part and when the creature turned fully, it was sporting a sultry set of lips, the very same that Logan dreamed of every night since the <em> Apollo </em>’s departure.</p><p>And Remus smiled when he met his lover’s gaze, its kind well aware of the effect they had on foreigners.</p><p>Beside him to his left and right lay the two pilots, Patton Collins and Roman Aldrin respectively. A creature stood above them, hands moving over their bare torsos, and Logan couldn’t help but wonder if they were screaming above their forms, damn-near tears from seeing Janus or Virgil slowly begin to tear them apart.</p><p>“I’ve missed you, Lo,” Remus’ disembodied voice echoed in the chambers of his mind, and Logan shivered, breath catching in his throat despite being removed from his body. “Come back to me, baby.”</p><p>Logan could only last a heartbeat longer before he was clawing at the air beneath him, pulling himself closer and closer to his body in order to be free of this spectral existence. A touch and then he was gasping for air, the Remus imposter above him and staring down with so much love in his eyes.</p><p>“Dying this way is okay . . . you’re with me, after all.” And he was, sure, the creature’s true form fading, everything else fading as he stared further into the depths of those soft browns. It was only him and Remus, as it had always been. They had an apartment with two bedrooms for appearances and they were careful, so goddamn careful.</p><p>Well, Logan was done with that―he was a hero, after all, he deserved a bit of a break.</p><p>So Logan didn’t fight it as Remus leaned down and pressed their lips together as aggressive as ever, tongue down his throat and calloused hands gripping his bare shoulders. With closed eyes, Logan leaned into it, not even bothering to pull away as Remus plunged his tongue deeper down Logan’s throat, then deeper. Much deeper.</p><p>Green light overcame Logan once again, as clear as day in front of his closed eyelids, and he wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist, holding him close as he choked on the other’s tongue, desperate for breath but unable to find it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey guys!</p><p>ive had this fic for a while, but i finally came up with a  comprehensive plot and decided to complete it :)</p><p>ty for reading, hope you enjoyed!</p><p>until next time,<br/>ronnie</p></blockquote></div></div>
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